


primary color

by ikijai



Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Drug Use, M/M, others kind of mentioned too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 05:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10690239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikijai/pseuds/ikijai
Summary: thor + dizzee think piece. set during part 2 while thor is in jail.





	primary color

It's like this: they're young and in love and it's that simple except for in this world where it _isn't_. This isn't one of their made up planets where everything is perfect and diamond dust–it's the opposite. People are ignorant and uninformed and other things that are unspeakably worse.

Each time Dizzee overhears a ‘joke’ or witnesses another persecution on tv, it's like the distance between him and being able to tell the truth about who he is is widened–the distance between what’s inside him that sets him apart from his brothers and what feels like _the whole damn world._

When Thor came along, things were different. Thor understood him. He understood his manic desire to express art in any way possible, even if it was dangerous. He understood his painted nails and isolated insecurity.

' _You're a fucking genius_ ,' Thor uttered all that time ago when it was just the two of them.

At the time, Dizzee waited for him to unveil the inside joke or laugh obnoxiously. When he did neither of those things and just watched Dizzee with the kind of admiration he’d never witnessed in person, his heart felt as though it would jump out his throat. It didn't, but it felt like it would.

' _What?_ '

It was the first time in his 18 years on earth that he felt unique instead of weird. That single statement induced an idiosyncratic happiness along with overwhelming thoughts and feelings in ways that Dizzee Kipling never thought were possible.

Now, though, Thor deteriorates inside a jail cell as punishment for an act of illegal artwork. Those two things don't belong together–they're an oxymoron. Just like that superhero of a person and those imprisoning walls–they don't belong together. Either way, Thor is in jail and Dizzee is going through what he thinks might be heartbreak or withdrawal or whatever will imitate his unmoving motivation and weighed down shoulders. 

In the beginning, there were tears, but now there’s just numbness and a deep chill even when it's 80 degrees outside. It's a physical pain pulsing through his veins. 

The only thing of Thor’s he still possesses is his words. Those vivid memories of bright paint against walls that the police saw as enough of a disturbance to lock away the beautiful boy with the beautiful wavy hair and twinkling laughter.

What was once a smile as he thought about Thor is now a painful grimace paired with an immovable weight on top of his chest. His heart used to pump wildly at the thought of _him–_ but now–it only tightens. Thor was supposed to be a god. He was supposed to be untouchable.

It isn't fair. Just as Dizzee was finally starting to find his place in the world, it shattered directly before his eyes. He watched his first real love get taken away and he didn't have those three words painfully bouncing around inside his alien skull until now. He wishes he would've told him, but it's pointless to dwell on what he knows he wouldn't have been able to say yet.

He wants to be happy. He wants to feel the sun shine down on him in all the ways Thor made possible. But the more time passes, the more he can feel the absence of the first person who tried to know him underneath it all.

His brothers have always been decent people. His parents on occasion. Yolanda. Zeke. And even Shao–sometimes. But none of them are Thor.

He wants to tell someone what he's discovered about himself over the past year, but every time he tries, his tongue dries up and his throat itches. _Wrong wrong wrong wrong_. What he's heard his whole life in the Bronx. Growing up, they were taught that _boys ended up with girls_  and _you didn't date outside of your own._

In this instant, Dizzee is infuriated and disoriented. But primarily, he feels a sadness that won't dissipate no matter what he tries. Being a Kipling has always meant being determined and strong-willed, but lately, those things are impossible. Despair and a lack of taste have possessed his once optimistic form.

It was going to be Yolanda. The first person he would tell. If anybody wouldn't judge him, it would be her. He's played it a thousand times in his head. It would be simple and to the point: _I think I might be with this boy. I think I might be in love with him_. She would try to understand even if she didn't really, because she cares about him in her own unique way of displaying it.

The words just won't come out. He pictures the way it's so _okay_ for Zeke and Mylene to be together and to wear it proudly. He pictures Mylene’s dad–the priest–damning him to dark places for having thoughts deemed out of place and unnatural. It's all been internalized and indoctrinated into his skull since the beginning of time. _Alien. Untraditional._

People like that don’t change. They're ignorant their whole lives until they die ignorant too. But it still wounds him, deep down. Every time Shao– _the fucking idol–_ utters _that_   _word_ like it doesn't mean anything. Every time his brothers laugh along with his jokes because they don't know any better. It's damaging.

It isn't permanent. Dizzee knows this. He's played it in his thoughts for days upon days. But it feels permanent and there's nothing he can do but wait. When he thinks about inevitability, this isn't what he wants to picture.

Thor changed things. But now Thor isn't there and all Dizzee has left is the image in his head of painted masterpieces and bright eyes so intense they could burn a hole directly through his heart. He knows he would've let them. This is the person who made being different okay. This is the person who knocked the breath out of his lungs in a way that Dizzee would take over and over if it were possible.

The kiss plays in his mind like a movie he never wants to turn off. It follows him to his dreams. Those primary colored lights. People who felt like girls or boys or neither inside. People who didn't give a damn about what the universe thought.

After Thor, Dizzee can’t take the typical _it's just the way things are_. He won't. He's seen what it looks like on the other side and he doesn't want to imagine ever going back to the way it was. Back to pretending to be something he isn't.

He misses the intoxicating paint fumes and the carelessness that he could only get while they were out there. The way nothing seemed to matter except what was present and tangible.

He’s found something decent with the get down brothers, with a place to escape to. A natural born wordsmith. A dj that’s fantastic in a way that's completely unironic.

Then there’s him. The one who’s always been deemed too weird and too out there, even by his own. His talent is wasting away but he can't bring himself to process it for long enough to care. Not being able to talk about it is probably the worst part. The desperate desire to tell somebody, _anybody_ , is so painful some days it feels like he's breathing underwater.

Dizzee's been going through drugs like they're candy. Like they’ll do what those dealers say they do. It's a distraction. That's it. He's still left alone with his thoughts after those exhilarating performances that have turned into tradition in the Bronx.

The get down brothers have given him a place to express his talent with words--but they're not those paint cans dressing those endless tunnels where the train passes. They're not Thor.

**Author's Note:**

> watch this show !!


End file.
